So, we have the stomach flu at my place. My eldest came down with it first. He is on the mend, but his brother then came down with it. They've both been utterly exhausted. We've reached the point in the day that I am ready to be done with it all. It's not because they've been bad. I am just burned out from being Mom. I tell myself that I have only one week left to go and then they're back at school. I then go ZOMG! And then question how I will manage not to have my head explode by then.
I did some writing today. I thought that the research I was reading about the effects of meditation was rather fascinating. I don't know if my article is good or not. I literally just submitted it in the last five minutes. I expect I will hear back from somebody on it in a few hours. I have several different articles in the que right now but I look at them and feel black despair.
I feel like an utter hack right now. It's a terrible feeling. I think I may be sliding into a bit of a depressive funk. It's rough having bipolar. I try to keep myself moving forward and being optimistic all the damn time, but it is exhausting. Beloved has been extremely supportive. He tells me all the time how he has faith in me and how important I am to him. One of the things he always says is how he couldn't do this with out me.
When I have the times where I feel like I am utterly wretched and a fraud, I look at him. I remind myself that he has faith in me. I look at my kids and remind myself that I am a good mother and they are the proof of it.
In 30 years, I don't think it is going to matter if the house was spotless. I have a feeling that my crazily high expectations for my writing are not going to have much bearing on the world. If I am persistent and I push forward, even when I am feeling my worst, then I will build that career that I have wanted since I was a kid.